Erotica Harem

Title:

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Author: Jon Michaelsen...

Plot:

Calvin Slade is trying to decide how to approach the possibility of Councilman Keyes being involved in the murder of Jason North to his editor.

Parker and Brooks visit the residence of Johnny Cage but he isn’t there. Johnny is watching from a hiding spot and sees the detectives. He also sees the policewoman assigned to keep an eye on the house.

Johnny goes to the airport and buys a number of one-way tickets to several destinations.

So Johnny bought twelve one-way tickets? I wasn’t clear on that part.

Style & Voice:

The first part of the chapter was told in third person from Calvin Slade’s point of view. The second part was in Parker’s pov. I didn’t notice any head-hops or changes in pov.

Scene/Setting:

Good descriptions of the area where Johnny lives and the trip to the Atlanta airport, but little too much detail was given on the latter.

Characters:

The old lady where Johnny Cage lives is a new character but she is only a periphery character.

Just My Personal Opinion:

Good chapter, Jon!

Alex

Grammar:

Very good, but don’t use symbols like ‘&’.

To pitch his managing editor of a connection to Councilman Mitchell Keyes to his managing editor, Slade knew he needed more than a hunch to expose the newspaper to threats of a lawsuit.

“’Didn’t leave the party alone’”, Slade said aloud, tapping his pen against the keyboard of the laptop to a tune of a favorite beat running through his mind [I don’t think they have music piped in over the intercom at the Atlanta Constitution-Journal? ]. No doubt the caller spoke of Mitchell Keyes.

Parker and Brooks stood on the wide brick porch waiting for an answer at the front door. The 1930’s-style Bungalow sat close to Park Drive, a {b]poplar and oak lined street lined with poplars and oaks west of Monroe Drive in the Morningside community.

“Excuse us [Insert comma.] ma’am,” Parker said and glanced at Brooks for reassurance they had the right address. “Detectives Ken Parker & and Timothy Brooks from the Atlanta Police Department, Homicide division.

“Well, of course.” The woman angled her small frame. [This should be a comma.] but fell short of clearing the way. {[Why is she clearing the way? In another sentence she’s closing the door on them.] She glanced back at them.

{b]She became anxious as Parker, followed by Brooks, rushed forward in the direction of her gaze toward a small wooden door at the end of the hallway. [How do they know she is anxious? What do they see/hear that tells Parker she’s anxious? ] A staircase descended to the basement below. Parker hit a switch on the wall to ignite a light bulb at the base of the stairs which {b]casted cast a muted glow throughout the area. Both men ducked to avoid the water-stained, low-hanging ceiling as they entered Cage’s quarters.

After cutting through the park and climbing the sloping terrain, the watcher exited and walked along the sidewalk fronting 10th street. He crossed the intersection at Piedmont Avenue next to a restaurant and walked the couple of blocks to the Midtown Marta station. Using his Breeze card at the turnstiles, he descended an escalator to the landing deep within the earth. A train pulled into the station with a rush of wind and screech of airbrakes. The aluminum vehicle opened its doors to deposit and accept people. The watcher hopped aboard the train and rode twenty-five minutes to the end of the line south of the city to Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport. Exiting, he took the stairs down instead of the escalator, passed through turnstiles and entered the airport terminal at the baggage claim area for Delta Air Lines in South Terminal. Determined and confident, he followed the wide, hospital-slick corridor toward the airport security portals.

[This whole paragraph can be pared down a bit. We have no doubt of your knowledge of Atlanta but it gets a little tedious. ]

“ID, boarding pass,” the TSA agent said. She sat on a stool and peered at his information with a scowl. “You Johnny Cage?” She tilted her head, looked up at him over her glances glasses(?). “You look different, been buzzed, son.”


Johnny smiled and offered in a southern drawl. “Yes, ma’am, I enlisted in the army last week. Headed to Texas for boot camp, ma’am.”

A large smile spread across her brown face and reached her eyes. “Praise the Lord,” she said and handed back his documents. “You a good boy. Ya’ll be safe out there, hear? God be with ya’ll, child.”

[When does he get a boarding pass? He can’t pass through security without a boarding pass.]

Johnny cleared the screening area without incident, rode the steep, steel-tooth escalators to the pedestrian corridor beneath the terminal and boarded a tramcar. He exited in the bowels Concourse B, took yet another escalator up a thirty-second ride to the terminal.

No one seemed to notice he had wads of cash stuffed in his faded jeans. No one thought to question why his hair was far shorter and a shade lighter than captured on the official Georgia Driver’s License. No one appeared concerned about his one-way ticket requests.

[Have things changed in the airports? It used to be one-way tickets raised a red flag. Something to think about. ]



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